


The Seeds of Attraction

by Loxxlay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Feelings Realization, Fluffy Ending, Guilty Thor (Marvel), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Pre-Thor (2011), Teenagers, but i love the pre-canon cliches okay, esp considering my usual writing lol, generally pretty fluffy, in short this is super cliche, loki is good at books, thor is good at sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 16:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loxxlay/pseuds/Loxxlay
Summary: In a precarious tumble during a sparring match, Thor realizes his feelings for his brother. It's up to Loki to convince him that he shares those feelings, too.





	The Seeds of Attraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlgoneblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlgoneblack/gifts).



> this was written for the [thorki secret santa gift exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Thorki_Secret_Santa_2018) run by [ktspree13](http://ktspree13.tumblr.com). My recipient's prompt was: **"Kids/Teenagers Loki and Thor with one/both of them just realizing their feelings for the other (love guilty!Thor),"** and I kinda got super into how Thor might react to his feelings, given that he feels guilty about it and is full of protective, older-brotherly urges. XD this is the fic that came of it. I really hope you like it, [girlgoneblack](http://girlgoneblack.tumblr.com), and I hope you had the best holidays!! ^_^

Loki first had his hunch one sweltering evening during his sixteenth summer.

He was facing his brother in empty space on the training grounds. Sweat soaked their foreheads and dribbled down their necks, and the setting sun still managed to beat down on them, even though the air had been getting chilly for at least an hour by now. 

Thor had just finished beating the smugness out of him in their last spar, and Loki was both pleased and bitter that Thor wasn’t pulling his blows. There would be bruises all over his torso tomorrow. But if he were lucky, there’d be vast improvements in his technique as well.

_ You asked him for this _ , Loki reminded himself. He gripped the practice sword in his hands and steadied his feet.

But Thor wasn’t quite ready for another round. “Hold on a moment,” he said, sticking his own practice sword in the ground. He tugged his shirt over his head, baring his nude chest, and then he bent over to dump his water can over his head. Cold liquid washed down his body. His abs glistened in the pink and orange flames of sunlight.

It was only when Thor glanced at him that Loki realized he’d been staring. Red flushed his cheeks. Turning his back, Loki used the spare moment to catch his breath—hands planted on his knees and breath coming in heavy pants. 

He used the end of his shirt to wipe his forehead, but—there was no point. He was hot, tired, and he wanted a damned  _ bath _ , but he also wanted to win at least one match before they retired for the evening.

Resolved, Loki straightened into his stance.

Thor’s eyes flickered away from him in a hurry, and, well, that was odd, but it wasn’t unusual anymore. His gaze had been lingering in strange ways ever since Loki asked him for extra sparring practice—a brief glance at his neck as Loki stretched, letting his head fall backward; a swift once-over of his legs that time he’d worn leather shaped perfectly to his calves; a darted look to Loki’s lips whenever Thor was correcting his posture and their faces were inches apart.

Loki added this one—Thor’s eyes appreciating the curve of his ass—to his collection of odd looks, but otherwise he paid it little mind.

“Ready?” Thor asked with a grin. As if the look had never happened.

Loki steeled himself. “Ready.”

And maybe it was the twilight hour fogging his brother’s vision, maybe Thor was still distracted, or maybe he was just as goddamned tired as Loki, but this time, the spar ended with Thor flat on his ass, and Loki straddling him to the ground, pinning his arms with his knees. He’d won. Undeniably. He couldn’t remember a time where he’d caught Thor so unaware.

Smirking, Loki pressed the end of the practice Thor to Thor’s chin and said, “Do you yield?”

Thor moaned.

And Loki heard the sound clear as day. He’d been experimenting with himself enough to know what it meant. He even felt a bit of relief that he wasn’t alone in his intermittent lust for Thor’s bare chest and his thick, muscled arms, a lust that spoke of incest, but—he didn’t have time to think deeply on any of that because Thor’s eyes had gone wide and he was struggling under Loki’s thighs, which  _ wasn’t  _ helping.

“Thor,” Loki snapped.

“Get off,” Thor growled at him. “Yes. I yield.”

Loki rolled his eyes, but he got off and offered Thor a hand.

Thor didn’t take it. He got up on his own and dusted himself off, not meeting Loki’s eyes.

And Loki started to wonder if this was maybe one of those times when the body got caught in an involuntary reaction at the wrong place and the wrong time. All at once, the smug pride he’d gained from his victory vanished, and he was just worried Thor felt awkward—or worse, that he’d want to stop practicing in the evenings altogether.

So Loki swallowed and came up with the excuse his brother needed. “Sorry,” he said softly, “did I hurt you?”

Thor’s face shifted, first with discomfort and then relief. “Your knee was digging into my chest a little,” Thor said, fidgeting with his pants. (Loki didn’t dare look.) “But that’s fine. That’s what you should be doing actually. I’m proud of you. You really had me that time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Loki said, but he couldn’t deny the blush burning in his ears. “I think I’m done for the night. Unless you want to—”

“No,” Thor said, too quickly.

Loki gave him a second look. Thor would always taunt him at the end of their evenings, suggesting they have just one more match, and Loki would give in once or twice, until finally he managed to convince his brother that they needed to wash up in time for dinner. But this . . . this was new.

“It’s getting late,” Thor said into the silence.

Loki nodded. “Alright. Let’s go then.”

“Actually,” Thor said as he grabbed his water can and hung up his practice sword on the rack (and he  _ still  _ wasn’t meeting Loki’s eyes), “I’ve got something I need to do, so I’ll just meet you at dinner tonight. That alright?”

Thor always insisted they go together to the royal bathing rooms with the excuse that they were saving work for the servants.

“Alright,” he said, suspicious. “See you later?”

Though the look was awkward, Thor beamed at him. “Yes.” And he patted Loki’s shoulder and headed for the stairs without a second glance.

Still, Loki studied his brother’s gait, which was slower than normal. Each step was a careful, reluctant movement, which the stairs up to the archway only exacerbated. Though Loki hadn’t dared even a glimpse of his brother’s pants before, he could guess what was wrong now. His brother was hard. More importantly, he was embarrassed about it. He was leaving to take care of it.

And it had started with Loki pinning Thor to the ground.

Suddenly the strange, lingering looks Thor had been giving him over the last few weeks started to make sense. 

Gleeful, Loki smiled and began to scheme.

 

* * *

 

Every evening, he wore the leather pants Thor had appreciated to their training sessions. Then he started removing his shirt when it got hot. His exposed flesh made him vulnerable at first, but he soon grew to relish in the heat of Thor’s gaze—which suddenly was lasting longer and longer, growing hungrier and hungrier.

Loki wasn’t so much of planning anything as he was biding his time—whatever his goal was, he only knew he first wanted Thor worked up to maximum lust.

And it was working.

Thor’s instructions on the training grounds— _ keep your weight on both feet, watch your surroundings, you’re holding your sword wrong _ —were becoming less and less as he became more and more distracted with Loki’s body. Soon enough, Loki started winning regularly. And while Thor was happy for his victories, Loki could tell it was frustrating him, tearing at his confidence.

Usually their positions were reversed, and Loki was secretly glad for this development.

After a couple weeks, he moved to flirting with his brother outside of their sparring. He passed notes to Thor, critical of their tutor’s lectures. Started leaning into Thor’s hugs, lowering his arms to hover at Thor’s waist instead of his chest.

“You’re so affectionate lately,” Thor said, a big smile on his face with no trace of suspicion.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all. Usually it’s  _ you  _ who’s complaining.” Thor gave Loki a playful shove to the shoulder. 

And Loki smacked him back, but—his chest was pounding and his cheeks were warm, because it was like they’d removed a wall between them. For years, Loki had been lonely and terrified, so terrified of being left behind that he’d pushed all of Thor’s affection away. But now, Loki knew Thor’s secret. He knew what Thor felt for him. And he’d be damned if he let it get away.

One evening, after dinner, Loki decided to take a step forward in his not-really-a-plan.

They were sitting on the floor of Thor’s room, working on the reading assignments given to them by their tutor. The fireplace crackled embers into the silence, embers that chased away the nightly chill. 

From the edge of his vision, Loki watched golden highlights and dark shadows flicker over Thor’s features. Thor’s eyes were rolling side-to-side over the page of his book, confused wrinkles twisted the bridge of his nose, and his thumb toyed with the corner of the next page. He looked beautiful—the kind of beautiful one could only be while thinking no one was watching.

Loki was filled with a wild urge to  _ kiss _ .

After a while, Thor released a heavy, frustrated sigh and tossed the book onto the rug. “I don’t understand any of this,” he said and rubbed at his eyes.

Loki pretended he hadn’t spent the last half hour staring. He leaned back against the foot of the couch and carefully used his momentum to scoot closer to Thor’s side. Their elbows bumped. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, keeping his voice low, “I doubt our tutor understands it either. He just pretends he does.”

Thor shook his head in amused disbelief. “Of course  _ you _ would think that.”

“I’m serious,” Loki said, indignant, but still playfully prodding Thor’s thigh. “Count how many important-sounding names he drops in his lectures next time, and you’ll see how little actual content is leftover.”

When Thor looked at him, there was a stubborn glint in his eye. “Alright,” he said, “then you explain it to me.”

For a moment, Loki considered leaning in, pressing his brother into the foot of the couch, and smashing their lips together. Thor had stopped shaving a while ago, and his beard was coming in, but his lips were still full and enticing and pink, and Loki wanted to taste them.

But no. That would scare him off. There were steps to Loki's goal.

So he recovered Thor’s book from the rug, and he scooted closer with the excuse of holding the pages between them. Each paragraph, he read, paraphrased, and explained, and all the while, he was leaning heavier and heavier into Thor’s side until he could smell the sweetness of Thor’s breath and their cheeks were almost touching.

Thor was leaning into him, too. His arm was secured around Loki’s waist, fingers curled into the bone of his hip. And their legs were tangled together in front of where they sat.

Loki finished explaining the last paragraph, and slowly, deliberately turned to look at his brother from beneath his eyelashes. “There,” he said. “Do you understand better now?”

Thor looked rather nervous, but still comfortable. Still relaxed. “Yes,” he said. “Thank you.”

His blue eyes darted to Loki’s lips, the hand around Loki’s hip was trembling, and Loki decided that now was as good a time as any. He leaned in, lips parting, and pressed his mouth to Thor’s. 

Thor’s jaw was rigid, unmoving at first, but within a moment, he succumbed to Loki’s touch. And then the book was back on the rug, and Loki was straddling Thor’s lap, and they were kissing, hard, their chests pressed together. Loki clawed his fingers into Thor’s hair, and Thor’s arms crushed around his waist. Their tongues battled, and Loki couldn’t help it—he was getting hard—so he grinded his hips against his brother’s, and met a thick hardness in Thor’s pants.

Loki broke the kiss long enough to keen. 

But before he could continue, Thor had his hands between them and he shoved Loki off. Loki landed, sprawled out on the rug, confused, and a little hurt. He looked up at his brother and saw—heartbreak? disapproval? disgust?—in a face that only moments ago he’d seen love. 

“What are you doing?” Thor gasped.

Loki blinked. “I thought . . .” What? That this was something Thor wanted, too?

“Loki, you’re my  _ brother _ . This is—this is wrong.”

“But I—you’ve been—that night on the training grounds, you—”

At the words, Thor lunged to his feet, his back turned, and Loki felt his ears burn bright, bright red. His chest thundered, one beat after another, as if it was trying to hurl his heart out of his chest, his throat welled, and his chin started to tremble. Loki swallowed to keep away the tears.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said to Thor, who was pacing across from the fireplace. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Can we just—can you sit down? We can keep reading, and it’ll be like it never happened.”

Thor stopped mid-step, but Loki couldn’t see his face.

“I’m sorry,” Loki tried again. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

At last, Thor turned to him, but there was no leniency in his face. Nothing but restraint. Slowly he walked over and knelt at Loki’s side. “Loki, it’s not your fault,” he said gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s—it’s mine.”

Loki frowned. “What?”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Thor went on, as if the seconds he’d been pacing had been spent preparing a speech. “I—I tried to ignore it, I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, but . . . clearly if I confused you enough to make you kiss me, then I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.”

“What are you talking about?” Loki breathed, because this didn’t sound like Thor. He sounded scared, and guilty, and not angry at all.

Thor winced. “I’m attracted to you,” he said. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t know until recently, but I think I must have felt this way for a while, and—and now it’s rubbing off on you, so I . . . I shouldn’t be around you anymore.”

Loki’s stomach lurched. “No.”

And finally, Thor smiled, utterly joyless. “I’m sorry. This is wrong, and I don’t want to hurt you or manipulate you. I think you need to leave.”

“Are you hearing yourself? You? Manipulating  _ me _ ?” He started to laugh, but when Thor only stared back at him, Loki shook his head in shock. “Are you seriously trying to blame yourself for something  _ I  _ did? Something  _ I  _ chose?”

“You said it yourself,” Thor said. “What happened at the training grounds? That was me.”

Loki scrambled to his feet. “ _ No _ , you don’t get it. I  _ wanted  _ to kiss you. I’ve felt the same way as you, long before then, and I—”

“Loki,” Thor said, his gaze hardening. “You’re only saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear. It’s best for both of us if you leave.”

“I’m not leaving,” Loki hissed, planting himself in place. “Not until you stop babbling nonsense and actually  _ listen _ to me.”

Thor got to his feet and took Loki by the shoulders. “If you won’t go, then I’ll have to tell Mother and Father. You won’t get in trouble,” he added to whatever face Loki was making. “I’m the older of us, so they’ll know it’s my fault. My responsibility.”

“But Thor—”

“I’m serious,” Thor said. “You need to go.”

Loki could feel tears stinging in his eyes, and he—and he didn’t want Thor to see him cry over this. He felt emotional and vulnerable and utterly  _ stupid _ , and looking into Thor’s gaze, he knew his brother meant it when he said he would go to their parents. Sealing his lips together, Loki glared at Thor and simply nodded.

Then he let Thor march him out of the door.

 

* * *

 

That night, Loki lay sleepless in bed, staring at the ceiling, and going over every single memory he’d had since he’d been born.

Some of them filled him with fresh loathing for his brother—because Thor never  _ listened _ , he always assumed, and he always decided things for both of them, regardless of how Loki felt—but . . . most of them were good. As toddlers, an outstretched hand that Loki hugged to his chest so he wouldn’t get lost in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. As children, racing through the hallways, having shirked their lessons, and Thor with the widest grin Loki ever remembered seeing on his face. And even in the recent years, Thor bending down and pulling Loki into a hug after older, nameless peers had bullied him.

Those memories were platonic at the time, of course, but Loki recognized the seeds of his attraction now. The warmth of Thor’s hand; the beauty of Thor’s grin; the sweet scent of Thor’s breath against his neck.

Thor was wrong.

Loki had always wanted him in a way he’d thought Thor would never be willing to give.

And, Loki supposed, that was true. Because Thor wasn’t willing to give it now, even though he wanted it, too.

 

* * *

 

For days, they didn’t speak beyond what was necessary.

Nightly sparring stopped without a word, but Loki still came at sunset and sat, curled against one of the practice sword racks and thought about all the ways he had schemed and tricked and gone awry. Maybe his plan would’ve gone better if only he had been honest from the very first.

Thor, for all that he had sounded tortured the last night they spoke, was acting as if Loki didn’t exist.

And even though the reason was different than he’d ever imagined it would be, it didn’t make the loneliness any less the essence of his worst fears, his worst insecurities. He curled his arms around his knees while he slept and tried not to cry. Living a life without his brother was the same as living a life with nobody—and he hated himself for becoming so dependent, so clingy, so  _ needy  _ for Thor's affection.

It was a few weeks later when something in him snapped.

He tore his room apart, searching old assignments, old journal entries,  _ anything  _ to prove that Thor was not alone in his suffering. Anything to salvage their bond from times before.

A letter was what Loki eventually found. It was sealed and dated from a few years ago, but never sent. Loki had forgotten about it, but as he saw the pre-adolescent sloppiness of his script, he remembered writing out his feelings for his brother in full—concealing nothing—and never, ever, ever planning to send it.

It seemed that he would send it after all.

He put a note at the top of it. Something simple—that he’d written the letter years ago and had little memory of what details it said—and then he tucked both under the door to Thor’s chambers for him to later find.

He waited—and hoped.

 

* * *

 

There was a knock on the door early in the morning.

Loki didn’t need to hear the familiar pattern to know who it was. A shudder twisted down his spine. Carefully he squared his shoulders and opened the door.

Thor stood on the other side.

Morning light spilled across the hallway outside, casting him in a backdrop of gray. The letter was in one of his hands, folded up but clearly unsealed. His other hand was clenched into a fist at his side, and his deep blue eyes were shadowed and cautious. “Can I come in?”

Loki swallowed. “Of course,” he said and stood out of the way.

Thor walked in. His shoulders were high and tense as he sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and looked about his surroundings. Mindlessly, his fingers played with the seal on the letter.

Silently, Loki watched him. His mistake had been moving forward too quickly. He was not going to rush Thor now.

“Did you forge it?” Thor asked. His voice sounded numb.

“Forge what?”

“The letter,” Thor said wearily and looked Loki directly in the eye. “Did you write it up and date it years ago to try to convince me?”

Loki’s nose wrinkled. “No,” he said, indignant. 

But Thor didn’t look convinced, and Loki supposed he had only himself to blame for lying all the time.

He sighed. “Thor, you know my handwriting doesn’t look like that anymore.”

Thor glanced at the letter beneath the envelope.

“Besides,” Loki said, carefully. “Isn’t it a little much for me to fake an embarrassing letter, all to manipulate you into lusting for me? Which, according to you, isn’t even what I want—it’s just something  _ you’ve  _ supposedly tricked me into.” Loki didn’t mention the fact that faking a letter to manipulate Thor is exactly the sort of thing he would do—Thor, after all, was too naive to recognize the flaw in this logic.

Still, Thor seemed hesitant. “I don’t want you to feel that you have to kiss me in order to spend time with me.”

“But I don’t,” Loki said.

Thor shook his head and looked away.

Sighing, Loki slowly approached the couch and sat beside his brother, careful to sit as close as he could without letting their thighs touch. In the silence, he constructed his argument. It was different this time, because he wasn’t trying to persuade Thor to kiss him or to fuck him (which was, if he admitted, maybe a little what he’d been trying to do before). Instead he was trying to persuade Thor to let go of his guilt—and allow things to go from there.

He clasped his hands in his lap and took a deep breath. “Look,” Loki said. “You said that you only realized your feelings for me recently. Yes?”

“Yes,” Thor said quietly. “The night on the training grounds.”

Loki ignored the shame running through Thor’s voice. “Right. But my letter is dated years ago. I’ve been thinking that way about you for much longer.”

“That doesn’t make it any different,” Thor argued. “Just because I didn’t realize it, doesn’t mean my feelings weren’t there.”

“Yes, but,” Loki went on, “if you don’t remember, then how can you be sure it wasn’t  _ my  _ feelings rubbing off on  _ you _ ?”

For the first time since the night in Thor’s room, Thor was given pause.

Loki watched his face flicker between confusion and denial, guilt and want. His blue eyes inched to Loki’s face, and they hovered there, switching between his gaze and his lips, down to their laps, and back again.

The gears in Thor’s head were turning, and Loki pressed his advantage. “We can’t say who started it or who is wrong,” Loki said. “We only know what we’re both feeling now. And . . .” He inhaled. Exhaled. Clenched his hands into fists. “We don’t have to do anything about it. Things can go back to normal. We never have to mention it again—just please . . . don’t abandon me like you have.”

Thor blinked. The denial and guilt withered away, only to be replaced with compassion. “Abandon you?” 

“You’re my only friend,” Loki admitted. His heart was pounding, his eyes were stinging, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without crying. And this was bad—if Thor realized how utterly dependent Loki was, then that would only fuel the guilt. Loki, after all, would likely do anything Thor wanted if Thor were his only friend.

And sure enough, even at those few words, Thor was frowning, leaning away, withdrawing inside himself again.

“Thor, please,” Loki said in a rush. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want to kiss you, but I’m willing to pretend as long as you keep spending time with me.”

For an achingly long time, Thor was silent.

Then, “okay,” he said.

Loki bit his lip. “Okay?”

Thor curled a hand around the nape of Loki’s neck, and it was both reminiscent of their brotherhood and a foretelling of something more. “I believe you,” he said. “About the letter, about your feelings, about all of it. And you’re right—the way we feel for each other matters more than whatever caused it. We don't have to pretend otherwise.”

Heat flooded Loki’s face. His lips quirked with a sudden, wild urge to  _ smile _ . “Really?”

“Really,” Thor said. “You’re my brother. My truest friend. And I love you.”

Loki’s chest skipped beats, and he smiled in truth—and Thor smiled back at him. It was like looking into the sun, burning bright, strong enough to wring tears from his eyes, but also enticingly, seductively warm. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Thor’s.

This time, it was gentle. This time, it was calm.

And this time, when they broke away for breath, Thor didn’t push him away.

**Author's Note:**

> am most active on my tumblr right now, which is [loxxxlay](http://loxxxlay.tumblr.com/), but you can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/grandthorki) and [dreamwidth](https://grandthorki.dreamwidth.org/).
> 
> thank you for reading! ^_^


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